


Home for the Holiday

by Spot_On60



Category: The A-Team (TV), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: Christmas then and now.
Relationships: Templeton "Faceman" Peck/John "Hannibal" Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Home for the Holiday

“Transport’s gonna be here in an hour Colonel.” BA had poked his head around the door of Hannibal’s office. At least what passed for an office in this Asian jungle.

Hannibal barely looked up from the supply list he had been going over with his new supply officer, a fresh-faced, California surfer dreamboat who’d landed in the rainy, mud-filled snake and insect incubator known as Vietnam. With a flip of the page on his clipboard he replied absently, “Thank you BA.”

“Want me to take your bag out ta...” BA was offering.

“No, thank you. That’s all for now.”

“Murdock and me, we’ve got everything ready to go. We can put yours...”

“That’s all Sergeant.” Hannibal shot a glare across the room.

“Okay. I’ll just...” The hulking man flipped a thumb behind him, indicating he was leaving though he had a perplexed look on his face.

It was obvious to Lt. Colonel John “Hannibal” Smith he’d confused his team’s mechanical engineer. After all Hannibal’s elite team had been granted leave over the Christmas holiday and the Colonel was supposed to be going with them. The camp-wide, envy inducing bodaciousness was conceived and approved by Colonel Morrison himself as a kudos for a job well done on their last mission.

It had been an intricate plan to extract those held within the mobile prison camp making its way to Laos. There were enough holes in it, it was sure to fail. Fail if anyone else had lead the group of four veteran team members plus their most recent recruit, the man currently sitting across from Hannibal. One very young, 2nd Lieutenant Templeton Peck.

As sly as it was bold, the plan turned out to require few deviations. There had been a close call when Ray attempted to drag a deranged flyboy from a pit which in hindsight, judging by the crumbling sides was dug with the intent of imminent collapse, burying its occupant alive. It would seem the unhinged captive had become an incumbrance.

Ray had unknowingly triggered the landslide and was grateful BA appeared from nowhere to make a dive for the man’s arm. The pilot was beyond any possibility of helping himself and didn’t seem to understand the close call he’d had. Lying on terra firma, his unblinking eyes pointed to the stars, his babbling incoherent to anyone other than the other voices in his head. As Ray tended to him, his throat closed a bit and tears stung behind his eyes at the thought of if this had been their own pilot. Murdock had been a bit wobbly of late.

The new kid held his own more by precision shooting, speed and a limber young body than by any previously seen displays of competence. Hannibal knew the kid had been a ninety-day wonder and though clever in his first days of procurements, hadn’t done much to impress other than stand around looking pretty. Yet it wasn’t long before Hannibal discovered somehow, in this insanity of Vietnam, the Colonel had managed to be assigned a young man who turned out to be exactly what the three-month officer training program strove to produce.

Tactically strong and a team player, this particular Lieutenant had been pulled by a sharp-eyed Major from the infantry. Upon graduation three months later from the accelerated officer training program he had been assigned to Intelligence. There, again beyond expectations, he excelled in Special Ops support. On to new coursework, he was sent first to Bragg then onto Benning, completing Special Forces training only to find himself shipped once again to the jungle, this time sporting a green beret.

Hannibal had planned on accompanying his men back to the States for an extended leave of three weeks, hoping to take time to visit what was left of his family in Michigan, two widowed uncles still working the land in his rural hometown. Upon announcing the team’s good fortune, the exuberance shown by the young LT appeared just a bit forced. It wasn’t until several days later, and now only the day before they sat together going over supply listings to produce an order, when Hannibal figured out the kid had nowhere to go.

Hands behind his head, elbows out to the sides, Hannibal racked his brain for anything he may have said to Lt. Peck about his own departure. Didn’t recall addressing it directly with him at all. _That would work well_ was the last clear thought he’d had before slipping into sleep.

First thing in the morning he pulled aside his number two, Ray, telling him he wouldn’t be joining them on their flight. He may catch up with them, but not to count on it. It seemed Ray hadn’t yet gotten the word out to the other members of the team which found BA looking for baggage, and fittingly enough, almost putting a wrench in the works. He hadn’t wanted to make a scene about remaining behind so as not to leave the youngest and newest member of the team alone on the Christmas holiday.

“You know I just made the acquaintance of a gentleman ironically named Due, who claims to have a store of French C-4 he just happened to stumble upon,” the younger officer had been saying.

“Due. Doesn’t that mean man of virtue?”

“Uh hhuh.”

“He just stumbled on it, huh. This man of virtue.”

“Like I said, ironic.” And there was that smile, charming and bright.

Hannibal smiled wide as well, laughing, thoroughly entertained. “I’ve got a man of my own I need to see about an advanced radio set. Seems what he has involves ear pieces and miniature microphones. Said he has another item I maybe interested in too. All very Man From UNCLE like.”

“Is it a shoephone?”

Hannibal laughed again. The kid had a quick wit. He commenced what was already becoming a regular sight to the LT, his CO on the hunt patting at his pockets, this time moving the search on to his desk.

“Is this what you’re looking for, sir?” The Lieutenant held out a cigar.

The Colonel noted the black and gold band. “Is that one of those Macanudoes?”

“It is. I don’t know much about them, cigars that is, but I heard good things about this one.”

“So have I. Got an extra?”

“Just the one.”

“Well, enjoy it. Let me know how it is.”

“I don’t smoke and my arm’s getting a little tired holding it out like this.”

“For me.”

“For you.”

Taking the offered treasure, Hannibal ran the tobacco delicacy over his upper lip and gently inhaled. His eyes lightly fluttered before he asked, “What do I owe you kid?”

Peck looked confused. “Owe me?”

“Yeah, for the cigar.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s a thank you, for you.”

“A thank you. What for?”

Peck looked down, his lower lip pouting even more than it did naturally. He looked for all the world as though he were embarrassed. Hannibal remained silent, waiting him out.

“You,” Peck began quietly. “I wanted to thank you for treating me with respect. And for seeing that the rest of the team does too. I appreciate it.”

Last thing Hannibal expected to hear. He gave himself time to put his words in order. “Lieutenant, I honestly don’t know where this is coming from. The work you’ve done as a supply officer has been not only complete, but creative as well. You also showed me and the rest of the team you’re a useful and reliable member in the field. There’s no reason for me to show you anything but respect. And as for the rest... Ray reported back the other guys were impressed with you. No reason for me to order anyone to treat you any differently than the other team members.”

He paused for a moment considering the kid across the desk from him. He really was a kid. Not for the first time Hannibal wondered if he just looked too young to be in this mess or if he had done a little fudging on his papers. Either way, he had the maturity of someone older than himself. Like someone who had seen a little too much. “Lieutenant, how you’re treated is all on you. You’ve proved yourself to me and the other men.”

The LT couldn’t hold Hannibal’s stare and dropped his eyes to his lap. “Thank you just the same,” then looking up, “Colonel.”

“Thought we already straightened that out.” Peck looked worried. “‘Sir’ and ‘Colonel’ are formal. You can call me Hannibal like the rest of the team.” He couldn’t help returning the smile the kid tried to hide.

“Thank you, sir...Hannibal. You know I’m kinda use to people calling me Face.”

“Face. I can see that.” Something was still bothering Hannibal about this exchange. “You know, Face. You’re a member of a relatively high ranking and elite team. I believe it’s a different situation than what you’ve experienced so far in the army. Your experience is very... varied and impressive as hell, but I want you to understand something. Without question you’re an equal member of this team. You’ve earned your place here. You’ve earned the respect of the team and we’ll always have your back. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. And I’ll always have yours.”

“Good to hear. Now I was talking about a meeting I’ve been trying to arrange. I want you to come with me. That is if you haven’t already made plans you can’t or don’t want to change.”

“No. I haven’t got.. what I mean is, I can change my plans.”

“Good! Now we haven’t nailed down the exact day or time, though I do know it will be in Hawaii, so we’ll head there and enjoy a little sunshine and sand. I wanted to stop in Saigon too. There’s a tailor I’d like to see. Ever had a custom made suit, kid?”

“No, but I don’t think I can afford something like that.”

“You’ll be able to. They’re not cheap back in the States, but they are here and possibly better tailored. Every gentleman should have at least one fine suit, if not four or five.”

“I think one suit at a time is all I’ll ever need.”

“Famous last words, huh kid? Now look at you, taking up three quarters of the closet. Always impeccable. We had a great couple of weeks that Christmas, didn’t we? You had the graciousness to not ask about the guy I told you I was meeting. Saw right through me all the way back then, didn’t ya? It was a long time ago. Who knew we’d still be together? All these years on.” Emotions roiling deep in his gut he continued, “You don’t know how much I wanted you then.” He chuckled. “Or maybe you did. Well we finally got there. It was worth the wait... You were worth the wait.”

He paused, contemplating over the silent man. He’d always heard those in an unconscious state could hear the words of loved ones, often responding by fighting their way up through the mire to rejoin them on the same plane.

“This is a helluv a way to be spending the weeks before Christmas.” He silently willed the beryl eyes to open. He had a conviction. If Face opened his eyes, he knew in his heart everything would be alright. The longer they remained closed the more hopeless the already dire situation became.

As he sat vigil his attention seldom diverted from Face’s face.

Face’s face, so cute when they first met. It had morphed to something best described as pretty before eventually settling into handsome. But looking at it now, brow furrowed even as he lay sedated, Hannibal could see despite Face’s unconscious state he was in pain.

Running fingers through his hair he asked, “Does this help? Does it help take away some of the pain?”

Face’s hand had been taken up, guided to Hannibal’s lips to be kissed on the back. He turned his head at the sound of footsteps behind. One glance told him it was the last person he wanted here. “Go away, Stockwell,” was said with a growl.

He took the hand in both of his own, gently massaging the tendons and bones.

“How is he?”

“You and I both know you’ve already been briefed.” Hannibal continued his watch refusing to spare another glance away.

“I have, but that doesn’t tell the whole story, does it?”

“He almost died. He may still. What more do you want to know? Go ask the nurses if you want more. Or are you wondering where we go from here?” He paused when he saw Face’s eyes subtlety and momentarily tighten.

“That’s not up to you.”

Hannibal let out a sigh. “I’m taking him home. Not Langley, to _his_ home, Southern California, where he came from. Where the weather is always warm. Where the sun bleaches his hair.” He moved a whisp from the unconscious man’s forehead. “Sure, we’ll go to Langley first, but only stay until he’s strong enough to travel. But after that, he’s all mine. I will guard and care for him. I’ll protect him from all comers. That means you, Stockwell.” He gently squeezed Face’s hand. “I wouldn’t send your best Ables if I were you. It would be a shame to lose them all in one go.” He paused for a moment to concentrate on that face. He thought he’d seen a bit of movement beneath the closed lids. “I want him home in time for Christmas. Maybe well enough for Midnight Mass.”

Stockwell traced his finger along the plastic bumper of the footboard. “Life is strange. Of all the missions I’ve sent you on... Then dinner out. Going out for Italian on a night off...”

“Yeah Stockwell. Life is full of funny little ironies. Like having you show up here.”

Stockwell noted Smith didn’t give a damn he was in the room. He reached to again run paths through the once blonde hair with his fingers.

“What more do you want Stockwell? I have other more important things on my mind than your bullshit.”

“What I want is what I always want, information.”

“What do you want to know that I’m the only one who has the answer to? Must be someone else you can talk to.”

“How are _you_?”

Hannibal again firmed his hold on Face’s hand and skimmed his knuckles down his cheek. “I’m scared.” He surprised himself saying it out loud as much so as hearing a true concern in the General’s voice. What could he do? It was the fact of the thing. “I’m scared we may lose him.”

“Carla will keep me up to date.”

Hannibal heard the footsteps pause momentarily, he knew Stockwell was at the door. He couldn’t deal with the man’s presence. He closed his eyes, steeling himself for whatever else the General wanted to rule over him. But nothing more came. The door swung and he knew he was again alone with Face. Opening his eyes, they looked straight into his man’s.

A whispered, “Hannibal,” brought a stroke down Face’s cheek and lips pressed to the fingers of his hand. Hannibal was crying. Tears overflowed and sent trails down unshaven cheeks. “Why are you crying?” A hand cupped his face before wiping tears away from its own.

The relief flooding through Hannibal rendered him mute. He could only pet Face in response before standing to place a kiss on the kid’s forehead. Resting his own forehead there he sighed, releasing days of tension and worry. He would leave them behind in this room when he carried out his most important of plans. The one to take Face home.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¥¥¥¥~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**H/F 2019 Holiday Prompt Fest**

“As everyone departs for the holiday Hannibal notices that Face has nowhere to go. When asked, Face plays it off as if it is no big deal; but Hannibal isn’t so sure. What does he do about it?”


End file.
